


Optional (but recommended)

by Serves_you_right



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic Fluff, IKEA Furniture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serves_you_right/pseuds/Serves_you_right
Summary: Berwald struggles with some particulary difficult IKEA project, and Tino decides to help him out.





	Optional (but recommended)

**Author's Note:**

> So, technically, this fic contributes nothing, but when I saw this post (http://imgur. com /WsSYw3X) I just had to do it.

Tino grabbed the last box with his ICA and 7-Eleven's loot and attempted at closing the car's door. The tower of shoping packets, rested on his outstretched arms, shook alarmingly, making him hurriedly retreat to his previous, at least semi-stable position. Well, maybe trying to take all five boxes and three bags in one go wasn't the brightest idea of the day (did he always buy so much?), but it was no turning back now – as the threatening construction already was higher than the man himself, leaving him with no much field of vision and a growing suspicion that he won't be able to put it down without breaking something, even if he tried.  
Cursing at himself, of course only after he'd made sure Peter were nowhere near to hear him, Tino  
carefully swung in the direction of the home entrance, trying his best not to slip on the snow-covered ice on the driveway. Usually, Berwald would help him with carrying the shopping – and by „help" the Swede understood collecting ALL of the loots and bringing them home before Tino could even get out of the car to protest; Tino was absolutely positive that Berwald would carry him as well, if the Finn would only allow that. But this evening Berwald was unusually occupied with some troublesome project from his national's company, so Tino had said to himself that „he is a man after all" and he can take care of carrying some shoppings from the car without clinging to Berwald.  
„Hi guys, I'm back." he shouted in the corridor, after he (by some miracle, truly) managed to open the main door and enter the cozy, already christmas-lighted interior. „Peter, can you help me with this? Oooh- and please, take Hanatamago before she jumps on me!"  
Peter answered something from the living room and after a second the Finn could hear his voice shouting cheerfully „Hana! Come here, you fat puddle of fur!"  
Giggling under his breath, Tino turned in the direction of their kitchen. His arms had already begun to sting a little and he still needed to hurry up and close the car before some stray animal decides to make itself comfortable on his nice, clean set of seats...  
Thump!  
„Tino?"  
The man in question fought for a moment to regain his footing. A hand appeared before his nose, as somebody helped him steady the almost-collapsing pyramid of material goods. The Fin tried (and utterly failed) to look above his shaking handful of boxes, at the source of his new-found problems with balance.  
„Ber! Oh, I'm so sorry! I've just walked into you like this. I'm such a clumsy!"  
„Don't be. 'M ok. 'Nd I'm sorry. For not helpin' with these, haven't noticed ya're already h'me."  
„Oh, no, no! It's not like you have to carry them for me every time." - Tino laughed it off, but Berwald already took the shoppings from his arms and dutifully placed them on the kitchen table. „So, how is your work going? Have you managed to figure out that cabinet IKEA had sent?" he asked while they both started sorting the newly bought yummies into the proper shelves and cupboards.  
Berwald shook his head as he looked for a bowl to throw the oranges and apples in. „No. Can't put the pieces tog'ther."  
The shorter man sighed with wonder. „Ouch, that must be a hard one. If even you still haven't get it puzzled out since afternoon!"  
Berwald didn't answer to that, choosing to put the extra packs of flour on the high shelf instead. Tino packed the last cotton bag.  
„Do you want me to have a look at that with you?" he offered, as the last article has found its place in the neatly-kept space of their kitchen.  
„Y's." The Swede returned the smile, Tino sent at him (even if Tino was genuinely the only person alive, who could recognize that the tall blonde WAS actually smiling).  
„Daddy, daddy!"  
The white 'puddle of fur', as Peter called it, run between the two, barking at Tino playfully. The Finn squated toward it, petting its head gently. „Hi, Hana! And what have you been doing the whole day?" In response, Hanatamago barked some more. Tino would swore she made a very proud expression.  
Laughing, he lifted his head to meet Peter's unamused scowl. „Daddy! I can't find Hana's playing-ball!"  
Tino nodded his head slowly.  
„That's some serious problem we've got here." he said. Then he hoisted the small dog to meet his eyes and asked, with all the sternousness in his voice. „Hana, did you hide your ball again?"  
Hanatamago wagged her tail and snarled happily in affirmation.  
Peter clapped his hands together. „Oh, daddy, she wants us to play 'hide and seek' with the ball!" the boy giggled as he grabbed both his fathers' hands and suddenly the two adults found themselves being dragged in the direction led by their son - and obviously very self-satisfied dog.  
Once they reached Peter's room, Hanatamago stopped and sat at the door expectantly.  
Seeing his family this livid and engaged, as everybody has started the Big Searching, made Tino smile to himself.  
„So Peter, have you been helping your Papa with building the cabinet?" Tino asked when his son finished applying highly energetic methods of looking to his toy-box.  
„Yeah! It was super funny!" the boy replied, while bursting excitedly through a pile of picture books and painting tools. „Especially when Papa threw his hammer through the window and it made such a whooshy sound!"  
From Peter's bed, that Sweden was half way crawled under in his search of the lost object, came a loud thud, as Sweden's head had unexpectedly met the wooden frame with quite an impressive strength.  
„Oh, really? And what else, dear?" Tino inquired innocently.  
Sweden's legs – the only visible part of his body – froze moveless.  
„And then he gave me a chocolate cookie if I won't tell you about the fire extinguisher!" Peter continued happily. Tino didn't think it possible, but Berwald's head hit on the frame even stronger.  
„That sounds like a lot of fun. What exactly about the fire extinguisher?" Finland asked, his voice hovering dangerously. but the boy only shook his head with a serious expression.  
„Can't tell you. I promised!" he looked at Tino as if the man obviously should knew it.  
„Oh no, I'm sure we can..." Tino began, but was quickly interrupted by Berwald's haste words.  
„Look, Peter, I've f'und H'na's ball." the man crumbled out from under the bed and sat, massaging the back of his head with one hand. On the palm of the other lay the missing ball.  
„Berwald, what about the fire extinguisher?"  
Obvious of the tension making itself comfy in the air between his parents, Sealand grabbed the dog's toy, copying the winner-fisting-move from the movies. „Can Hana and I go play in the snow? Papa, can we?"  
Berwald fixed his gaze on Finn's hands, put on the smaller man's hips.  
„Of course you can, honey." answered Tino instead.  
Peter jumped to his feet. „Thanks, Dad!"  
The sound of him and Hanatamago fighting over a scarf filled the further parts of the hallway.  
The tension decided it can as well make itself comfortable and prepare some popcorn.  
„Berwald?"  
The Swede moved nervously. „Ya' weren't suppos'd t' find out."  
„Yes?" asked Tino.  
„T's noth'ng import'nt."  
The smile he got in response was one of the cutest he had seen on Tino. Berwald thought it was the scariest things he has ever meet.

#//#

Finland went lost in some kind of a frantic trance. Seeing the small nation rummaging through the wooden parts and rich assortment of screws, caps and connectors, with a stern expression of a cold, precise focus, somehow made the Swede reminiscent the long-ago memories of their shared battles. Berwald felt some sting of a sentimental fondness.  
„Freaking hell, Berwald! This is insane! They can't possibly use all of this stuff to make one – ONE! - cabinet!"  
Sweden murmured a quiet „Mmh" in response and continued watching his significant other with the corner of an eye.  
Tino stood and shot deadly glares at the innocent piece of furniture. A half-assembled cabinet stood miserably on a big, fluffy carpet of their living room.  
„Have you read the instruction? The whole of it?" the Fin asked with growing resignation. Seeing Berwald nodding his affirmation, Finland almost wailed in despair. „Are you sure? Absolutely, definitely sure?"  
„Yes. I've read th's. You've read th's already four times 'n the last hour.”  
Tino groaned and returned to flipping the papers.  
Haveing spent the whole day on this assigment, Sweden has already tried positively everything. He was just not ready yet to admit, that his beloved company, this time, has betrayed him. But however he looked at it, however he put the pieces together, they wouldn't match the pictures in the manual. Actually, the pictures in the manual wouldn't match pictures in the manual, which was quite worrisome.  
Tino shook several more glances between Berwald and the instruction in his hands. He started again, with a much smaller voice. „But are you sure you've read it?” His big, puppy eyes glued to the few pages of paper, makeing Berwald walk over to his married one and pull the useless guidebook out of his grasp.  
„Ya, Tino, I'm sure. I'm not that idiot Denm'rk. Or Feliks.”  
Actually, the recollection of Poland's little 'Instructions are for dumbies' incident, folloved by the blonde excitedly visualizing his opinion by flushing said guidebooks down the toiled, earned Berwald a soft gigle from Tino. „Feliks's not an idiot.” Finland said on behalf of his friend's boyfriend. „He's just... Feliks.” he tried to find an accurate description, but gave up and instead just settled for a shrug. The laugher broke on his face, when he rememberd „And poor Toris had to go back and buy a second set of the exactly same furnitures the very next morning, so they could restore the manuals and unscrew whatever havoc had Feliks laid upon the miserable table and bookcases!”  
The Swede hummed with satisfaction, any memories of a passing day forgotten right away. This laughing Tino was definitely his favourite, and it was his duty, as a husband, to always make his cute wife relase these small, lovely sounds.  
He thought of saying that to Tino, but decided against it, too afraid of sounding stupid and embarassing.  
„Anyway,” the smaller nation cut off his ponderings, obvious of Sweden's thoughts „who the heck wrote this thing?!” Tino gestured to the papers in Berwald's hold, bringing their attention back to the problem at hand. „It doesn't make a sense. Like, here and here, and here, too.” he pointed to the confusing steps.  
„Don't know. S'me new guy from Hong-Kong we've hired this week.”  
The pictures didn't even seemed to fit each other. Actually, it looked more like somebody cut them out of few different manuals and then stick it all together on a new sheet of paper. Tino's face fell when he imagined trying to resolve it all from nothing. He thought he just felt his head starting to ache. His eyes flicked to the next page.  
„... A-are this pandas?”  
„Yeah, I th'nk so.”  
Finland smiled in that scary manner, which forced Berwald to take a step back.  
„Crap... umm, Berwald?”  
„Yes, T'no?” the man asked, cursing internally at Hong-Kong's whole population, insane guidebooks, IKEA and each and every of their furnitures, and trying anxiously to remember another funny story about Tino's friends...  
„Do we have any more hammers? Because I just feel like throwing something through the window, too.”  
Berwald's eyes involuntarily wandered into the left corner of the room. He thought with heartache about his favourite hammer; then about the big, goofy christmas star, he had put in their yard last sunday and he really liked, even if that particular piece of decoration only made Denmark and Norway laugh upon seeing it - but which now stood up as a most obvious target... of course he himself was targeting it when he angerly threw some another hammer earlier this day, but then, he didn't have Tino's perfect, snaper-quality aiming skills, so it only had ended in him hitting the colorfoul christmas bulbs, and a little fire from breaking them on a wooden planks...  
He dropped his head down. „Please, don't.” he pleaded with an illsuited, tiny voice.  
Finland's violet eyes turned his direction.  
Luckly for Berwald's hammer (and the Christmas star) the front door opened wide, revealing an excessively content, if both tired and soiled, Hanatamago together with one very wet-dripping five-year-old.  
„Paaapa! Hana lost her ball, aaagaiiiin!”  
Tino's eyes turned from Sweden and grow like two solid saucers, upon witnessing the state the duo was in. „Holy Santa, have you two been swimming for England?! I'm gonna be seeing you in the bathroom THIS SECOND!! Both of you!”  
„Buut, ...”  
„Woof-...”  
Berwald's tall figure rose behind his back, adding his own hovering contribution to Tino's authority. Clearly, the move made the trick, as Peter and Hana obdiently took the stairs, without further objections. Sweden's lips formed into a tiny smile, as he watched his husband letting out an weary sigh and, after a few moment, joining the already stiring up a new troubles upstairs twosome.  
Turning away from the hall, he moved his gaze back to the reason of his troubles; the subject of his bloodcurdling stare lied by the semi-build frame, still coverted in pandas and all absolutely useless. Shrugging his shoulders, he placed the problematic piece of paper in the trashcan and made a mental note to call the IKEA and tell them to move that Hong-Kong boy to some other department. Good God, anything but the Instruction Authors! Maybe Designs? The panda-pattern looked quite cute, after all. But for tonight, it appears that Berwald will have to figure out the assembling process on his own.  
A quiet pray reatched his ears, probably marking the moment of Tino openning the bathroom door.  
„Mielikki, help me.”  
„Huh.” In fact, Berwald couldn't agree more.

#//#

The old clock, hanged above the fireplace, played three soft tunes, and Berwald suppressed a loud yawn. Crap, it was really late. He raised hand to his face and straightened his glasses. Keeping late hours wasn't anything new; he was used to it, if needed - he had to, since things weren't always milk and honey for him and Finland - but it always maked him drowsy for days after. Guess he wasn't a night person, after all.  
„Swe? You're still awake?” Tino's concerned face peeped from the room entrance. Just after it, the rest of the country's body followed into the clearance. Berwald moved stiffly from his sitting position by the perpetually and stubbornly not-finished cabinet.  
„Yeah. Didn't mean to wake ya. Is Peter asleep already?” he slurred.  
In an answer, Tino smiled kindly. „You didn't. And yes, he has been asleep for at leat five hours.” Actually, it was Tino, who was asleep for five hours, as he just fall for it ,while reading the boy his bedtime story, but it was all an unimportant details. And Peter did also fall asleep, sooner or later, and was now soundly lost in a dreaming land. „Oh, you're writing a new guidebook for the cabinet? But Ber, you need some sleeping too!” he added with worry, looking through perfectly clean, technical drawings, portraying respective steps of the building process.  
„Yaa, well. Just can't figure it out.” the taller man waved tiredly at the numerous pieces, lined up in methodical stacks at his feet.  
In fact, he got stuck for quite some time now. The last true progress, he achived, was about two hours ago, and since them all he managed to do was some adjustments or minor improvements in the cabinet's functional and comfort design.  
„I just don't kn'w where t' go next.” he confessed.  
Tino gazed around thoughtfully. Then Berwald felt his big eyes stopped on him. The finnish man brought a finger to the lips and winked at the puzzled Swede. „I've got an idea. Just wait here, Berwald.”

#//#

A colorful mixture of muffed noises and rushed 'Sssh'-s told him that indeed, the divine smell of that undeniably delicious something, was coming from the kitchen. Peter sleepily rubbed at his eyelids and pushed the door open.  
Only to find both his fathers leaning heavily over top of a counter; Berwald eagerly muttering something into Tino's ear, and Tino silencing him with some sort of a crispy snacks while being all too much smutty smiles himself for passing as an innocent. The boy stopped in his track to think. From under the table, the small figure of Hanatamago waved its tail upon noticing him.  
„What are these? The funny things Papa's eating?”  
Suddenly, Peter found himself an aim for a two pair of eyes.  
„Why aren't you sleeping? Did something happen, dear?” inquired Tino. Berwald stepped away, giving Tino his space back, and the next moment, Peter was being hoisted by his Dad's arms.  
The boy giggled and returned Tino's hug. „I'm not sleepy, not at all-affff.” Little mouth shaped a perfect 'O' and Peter tried to quickly hide them in Tino's shirt, his ears turning guilty red. Then, still looking at Tino, he pointed his finger at Berwald's nose. „Why aren't you sleeping?”  
Berwald regarded his son with well hidden amusement.  
„Oh, being the clever one, aren't we? Your Papa, you see, has to finish his project. And I'm making sure he doesn't overwork himself.” Tino meet Peter's serious expression. He heared Berwald releasing an undetermined huff in the background.  
„The IKEA thing?” the boy asked, nodding his head in understanding.  
„Exactly.”  
„Uuuhhh.” Peter affirmed. Then his face lit up with an idea. „Uncle Mathias says IKEA's just like a bigger Lego! Maybe we could just call Uncle and he will help?”  
„Ahaha, I don't really think Papa would like it...” Tino smiled nervously, throwing a quick glance at Berwald's face. He sat his son on the counter. A bowl half-packed with the same cripsy chips, that Peter saw Berwald eating at first, and the second one, full of some kind of red sauce, were placed on his knees, offering its contents to the boy. „So, Peter. Are you with me? The next portion of dough is ready for being cut.”  
The young country exclaimed his vigorous confirmation.  
„You do it like this, see? We will hold the knife together, okay. There, you go, just grip here - and make sure your line is steady! Now...”  
Tino got lost in explainations, passing his full focuse on demonstrating his little boy the secrets of preparing the world's most perfect nachos.  
… „Dady, where's Papa?”

#//#

Slowly, the idea that the loud noises, so rudely abusing his sleep, are in fact his phone's clock alarm, begun to forme in his head. Feeling the floor around with his left hand, Tino grumbled a low „Where the heck is it?”, as the guitar tunes of some Oz's intros continued to call his fighting senses into reality.  
„Morning, T'no.” came in a tired voice from the kitchen.  
The Fin gave up on finding the exact localization of the offending phone and changed his tactic – drastic times call for drastic measures - to throwing the first heavy object he could found instead in the general direction the hellish noise come from. A long, wooden and metal item banged on the wall, with a solid sound. Tino hissed, unsatisfited – the dammned phone still wouldn't shut up. He helf-heartedly attepted at returning Berwald's greetings, as his arm took another wide swing.  
Tino definitely was not a fan of a morning reality...  
Suddenly, his hand was stopped mid-air and whatever he managed to grab was being taken away from it and replaced with a hot steaming mug. The smell of a pure wonderfullness tickled Tino's nostrils. „Here. Drink.”  
Thou maybe some koffeine magic could change that.  
Tino inhaled the rich aroma, the phone and it's noises temporarly forgotten in favor of liquid life in his hands. After takeing few quick sips, the man eventually felt like opening his eyes. His body protested when he stretched out, stiffed because maybe spending the night in the armchair, after he had put Peter back into boy's own mattress, wasn't the brightest idea, and his neck hurt a little, and an unknown cabinet stood just in front of his nose, occupying whole central area of their living room. Tino let the picture sink into his numb mind. Then he literally jumped out of his place.  
„Wow, Ber! You've finished it!” he exclaimed.  
Berwald nodded silently. He stroke as exhausted and drained, his hair ruffled in every direction possible, and his eyes underlined with dark circles, which actually made him look even more scary then his usual stern expression, there were also at least two empty coffee cups at the table Berward was sitting, but nonethless Tino could see him smiling gladly, when his attention shifted from Finland to the source of their yestarday's (and night's) problems.  
„Alm'st.” said the Swede. His hand reached for a few paper sheets, coverted with multiple drawings – the new instruction he made, and a pen. „Just one m're thing left.” he added, contemplating something as he gazed Tino – one of these intense stares, that sent the smaller man petrified so many times at the begining of their friendship, and which he later learned to take for what they really are. Leaning over the Swed in curiosity, Finland tried to make out what the other was sketching at the page corner.  
„Side st... Side step...”  
Berwald put the last stroke and took his arm away, so it no longer blocked Tino's view.  
Marking the moment Berwald has so helplessly stuck at the night, was a small drawing and a short sentence. Tino read out loud „Side step (optional but recomended):” He smiled in amusement upon recognizing Berwald's little drawing. „Make natchos.”

#//#

Young, black haired man closed the door behind his back, and peeked inside the house. He left his heavy boots in the porch, together with his panda-decorated student bag, and after affirming that Lukas was nowhere in his way – probably the courtesy of Denmark – he made a bee line for his boyfriend's room.  
„Heey, Icyyyy! Guess what? I've got promoted! They liked my guidebook so much, they're moving me to a Designs Department!” he shouted from the doorstep.  
Iceland spit out tea, he was drinking, beetween his teeth . „Whaaat?!! How in the freezing hell is that possible?!”  
„Come on, Ice. Thought you would be more glad you've got such a marvelous, talented boyfriend!” loudly teased Leon. He then throw himself at the unmade bed.  
Emil let out an unimpressed huff, taking another sip from the steaming mug. „I have seen that guidebook, Leon.” he stated, turning back in his chair. „It's a miracle they didn't throw you out the second you submitted this dreck.”  
„You're so cold, Icy... Buu!!” the other boy whined into the cushions. „You know, you should be really carefull drinking that tea. What if it melts your icy self?” The question was met with a big toy puffin hitting the dark hairs.  
Not elicting expected reaction from the black-haired boy, Emil chose to check on his guest. The other country laid motionless, on his bed, with the stuffed toy still covering his dark head. He didn't even turned his face in Emil's direction. Iceland regarded his boyfriend thoughtfully. Finally he decided to offer, with a sigh:  
„Then, I would be a tea puddle with the most marvelous and talented boyfriend.”  
That statement looked to dit it's job, as the dark hairs turned back to reveal Leon's face. „Really?” a little muffled voice asked from the bed.  
Emil smiled softly.  
„Yeah, really.” came his answer, causing Leon to gleam again. The asian patted a spot beside him. From a pocket, he drew a folded piece of paper.  
„Now, that you've finally understood, how magnificient being your boyfriend is, came here and help me decide:  
Are these puffin's designs cute enought?”


End file.
